


Nightmares

by feathertail



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Angst, Gen, The Force, pain and suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 01:31:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13179513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathertail/pseuds/feathertail
Summary: Having returned with his injured father after the Starkiller Base incident, Ben has been struggling with nightmares of the Dark Side tempting him once more. This has terrible consequences.





	Nightmares

Han had barely left Ben's side since he'd been able to, and sat with him most of the night, hoping his presence would quell any night terrors that would fall upon his son. He usually slipped out when he began to doze, but Leia wasn't back from her meeting yet so he saw no point when he could continue to watch over his son. Still, his eyes were slowly drooping when movement made him force them open, turning in his chair to look at his son.

"Ben?"

 

Ben's eyelids fluttered madly, and his face was starting to contort in pain, fists clenching at his sides as he twisted.

"No," he muttered, head tossing to the side. "No, no, please."

"Ben, it's okay," Han murmured, moving to sit next to his son's head, caressing his hair. "It's okay, kiddo, nothing's wrong, I'm here."

 

But Ben continued to toss and turn, with Han growing increasingly concerned as things in the room began to shake with the amount of Force that Ben was unwittingly using; he once again regretted that there had been no time to guide him through his teenage tantrums when he was younger, to control his anger and its effect on the Force.

"Ben," Han tried again, grasping his son's hand. "Ben, it's oka-"

He cut off, hand going to his throat, where he could feel _something_ compressing his windpipe so he couldn't breathe, almost a fist clenched around it.

"Ben," he tried to call out, but nothing emerged from his mouth, and he couldn't breathe. He reached for his son, squeezed his hand, trying anything that could get through to him.

 

His vision was beginning to blur at the edges, when Ben's eyes flew open and he sat up suddenly, but he obviously didn't see who it was sat next to him in the dark, because the next thing Han knew, he was flying backwards, and then- _nothing_.

 

Ben straightened from the nightmare, chest heaving, sweat trickling down his forehead, fists tight and tense. His eyes adjusted to the dark as he looked around, still breathing hard, but his heart stopped at what he saw.

"Papa," he choked, flinging himself out of bed to the slumped figure of his father, sliding to his knees and cradling Han's head, bile rising in his throat as he felt the wet stickiness that could only be blood soaking through his greying hair.

"No," he breathed. He vaguely recalled flinging a figure aside, but he had thought it was still in his dream.

 

_"No!"_ His whisper became a scream as he cradled his father to his chest, tears falling from his cheeks to wet Han's shirt.

_"No, Papa, please, **please!** "_

Everything in the room began to shake with the force of his anguish, the only thing remotely still was the small bubble he seemed to have created around the two of them. The bed rocked, lightbulbs smashed, fixtures on the wall contorted violently out of shape, all accompanied by Ben's screaming and sobbing.

 

**_"Mama!"_ **


End file.
